Brotherly Assistance
by Heuress
Summary: After the tragic death of his wife, Matthew was left with the responsibility of raising their son Francis. However, he won't be alone; his heroic brother's come to the rescue and has decided to move in with Matthew to 'help out'. Now the two brothers must face the frightening prospects of child-rearing. Will they live to tell the tale? Only time will tell.
1. Brothers and Burgers

**A/N: Hello, people! Happy Father's Day!**

**Just to let you know (if the summary hadn't been very thorough), this is kind of a reversed-role story. I've read many stories where Francis was Matthew's older brother or father (same goes for Arthur and Alfred), yet for some reason, I've never come across a story where it was the other way around. I had the sudden need to rectify that. After all, in the world of fanfiction, anything is possible! Which is why I decided to write this fic. This means that _everyone's _roles will be flipped. For example, while Ivan will still be the middle child, Natalya will now be the oldest and Yekaterina (or as some people like to call her, Katyusha) will be the youngest. This goes for everyone except Matthew and Alfred (their ages will still be canon- well, they won't be centuries old, but the age difference will still be there). Oh! And another thing! Cuba doesn't really have an "official human name", so I just called him Carlos in this. Why? Because Carlos.**

**The first chapter is, admittedly, pretty bad but I hope that you find it at least satisfactory (you probably won't, but one can dream, da?). It's also pretty short and this author's note is probably as long as the chapter ha (please ignore my pathetic excuse of a joke). I'll only really continue this if anyone's interested, as it was just a little muse of mine that wouldn't get out of my head. I'm pretty much an amateur at writing, so any kind of feedback is welcome, including constructive criticism. I strive to improve, after all :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.**

**Chapter One- Burgers and Brothers**

One month.

It had been one month since the woman he had loved had passed away. Over the past long, torturous, terrible month, he'd struggled to raise their son as a single father- hell, he was still struggling. Not only that, but on top of trying to raise a child properly, he was constantly tired. Exhausted. Knackered. Between juggling a job, raising a kid, coming up with enough money to pay the rent and the bills, the blond man had his hands full and hadn't had a moment's rest. It was excruciatingly hard balancing all these important priorities alone- the death of his wife had come as a major blow and a huge shock. It had shaken Matthew to the very core and he had started to have huge doubts about whether or not he was mentally (and physically) capable of raising his child. If his brother hadn't convinced him otherwise, Matthew was sure that he'd have burdened other people with making them bring up his son.

After having been convinced by his brother to raise Francis, Matthew still hadn't been completely sure that he could do this- that he could actually raise his child all on his own. But somehow though, by some miraculous stroke of luck, he was doing it. He wasn't, for lack of better word, fucking it all up. Sure, he'd been forced to make massive sacrifices along the way, but so long as his son was happy and healthy, Matthew was content.

"Mattie. Did you hear what I just said? Maaaaaattttieeeeeeeee! Are you even listening to me? Hey Mattie! I'm talking to you!"

Well, maybe not content exactly. But something similar. After all, how could a man who recently lost his wife be content? Matthew wasn't one for moping about and completely losing his way (in his opinion, at least), even if it had been rather tempting during the first few days after his wife's passing. Still, with the help of those who loved him dearly (who was he kidding, nobody loved him), Matthew managed to pull through and suck it up for the sake of his only child.

"Hey! Mattie! Listen to me!"

A pair of fingers snapped in front of Matthew's face and the man in question snapped out of it. He stared at the brown and yellow blob that was seated across from him and frowned. He took his glasses off and started wiping the lenses with a handkerchief (he never used it anyway and Matthew was absolutely certain that it was clean).

"Hey, dude, you okay? You kinda zoned out for a minute there."

Matthew placed his glasses over the bridge of his nose and blinked, focusing on his brother, "I'm fine."

"You sure?" Alfred's face looked genuinely concerned and it really touched Matthew that he would be even the slightest bit worried about him.

"Positive."

"Here, have a burger," a large cheeseburger was thrust into Matthew's hands before he could even politely decline, "it tastes great."

Matthew glanced down at the cheeseburger before setting it back down on Alfred's tray, "No thanks, Al. I'm not really hungry."

"Not hungry? Dude, you have to eat! We're at a restaurant!"

"We're at MacDonald's."

"Yeah, which is a restaurant!" Alfred exclaimed as his hand swiped the chocolate-flavoured milkshake off the table. He brought the straw up to his lips and started slurping loudly. He seemed to mewl in delight, much to Matthew's slight amusement.

"Well, like I said. I'm not really hungry. Maybe later though, eh?"

Alfred attempted to pout with the straw still in his mouth, "You need the energy though!"

Matthew smiled softly, "I've got enough energy to get me through the day, thanks. Besides, I had a big breakfast."

Alfred immediately stopped slurping and put the milkshake down. His expression turned serious as he said, "A big breakfast? _A big breakfast_?"

Matthew rolled his eyes. Here we go...

"A 'big' breakfast isn't enough, Matt, not nearly enough! You're a grown-ass man and you need as much calories as you can get!" Alfred ignored Matthew's frown and continued, "Skipping meals isn't gonna make you skinnier; it'll only make you feel worse! Believe me, I know."

"You've never skipped a meal a day in your life."

"I have so! Remember that time when I was thirteen? Some kid called me fat and I skipped meals for an _entire _day!"

Matthew sighed, "No you didn't, Al. It was Carlos who did that."

"Oh yeah. Wait, who?"

"Carlos. The Cuban kid in our class. He used to hate you, remember?"

"Oh yeah. How'd you remember that?"

"He's a good friend of mine."

Alfred quipped, "I thought you had no friends."

"Thanks, Al."

"No, I'm serious; I really thought you had no friends!"

"I know that."

"You know you have no friends?"

"No, I know that you thought- you know what, nevermind. Let's just change the subject, please." Matthew almost pleaded. Chatting about his non-existent social life was not something he particularly liked. Of course though, his brother ignored him.

"What I'm trying to say is that starving yourself won't help with whatever you're going through."  
"I'm not going through anything, eh."

Alfred gave him a look, "Don't bullshit me, bro. I know the past few weeks have been tough on you."

Matthew was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable and he had a certain feeling he knew where this was going, "I'm fine."

"Yeah, that's what you've been saying every day for the past month. Every. Single. Day. Or you know, that's what I imagine. This is the first time I've even seen you in days. I get that you're busy, but you could at least pick up the damn phone from time to time."

Matthew threw Alfred a guilty look, "You know what? I think I will have that burger." Matthew lifted the cheeseburger off his brother's tray and took a bite; he almost spat it out as soon as he did. That tasted awful! How could Alfred eat this?

"Something's different about you, Matthew. You've changed and I'm getting a little... well, worried about you. I'm starting to think you need help."

"Help?" Matthew echoed, choking the words out as he bit into the burger again and chewed slowly.

"Yes."

"I don't understand- I've been doing very well. I go to work, I cook, I clean, look after Francis- I'm doing great."

"No, Matthew you're not. You look like shit! You're an absolute mess. Just look at you!"

Matthew turned his head to the side to face the window. Staring right back at him was a sorry-looking man with mussled blond hair, droopy eyes with dark rings under them and impossibly pale, chalk-like skin. He did indeed look terrible, "It's not that bad." he mumbled, trying to reassure himself, but Alfred didn't hear him. Turning back to face his brother, Matthew queried, "So you're saying I should get professional help?"

"Yes."

Matthew took another bite and forced himself to swallow; he instantly regretted it. His stomach rumbled lowly and he started to feel a little sick. He placed the burger back down and pushed it away from him, "I think I've lost my appetite."

Alfred ignored him, "I know exactly who's going to help you."

"Who?" Matthew asked softly and quietly, not really giving a maple about who Alfred had in mind; he was just being polite. He didn't need any help and he wasn't going to get any. No one had offered before and he was perfectly fine on his own. He wasn't going to go see a shrink, or a therapist, or whoever it was that Alfred wanted him to see. Telling him that he needed help simply because of his appearance seemed pretty ludicrous to him.

"Me!" Alfred exclaimed with a bright grin. The change in Alfred's demeanor almost made Matthew do a double-take. Almost.

"I should've known..." Matthew muttered.

"What?"

"Nothing." Matthew sighed, "Why do you want to 'help' me?"

"Because you obviously need my assistance. In fact, this was the reason I brought you here."

"You brought me to MacDonald's so that you could tell me that I need help." Matthew stated blankly.

"Exactly! Well, that and because I was hungry. For burgers. And now, I'm about to tell you a truly amazing idea that I'm sure you're simply dying to hear!" Matthew expected Alfred to explode from excitement judging by the way he was acting, "I'm going to... wait for it... LIVE WITH YOU!"

A few heads whipped around to face them due to Alfred's enthusiastic bellow, but Matthew paid them no attention, "Excuse me?"

"I'm going to live with you! Isn't that exciting?"

Alfred's statement was met with utter silence on Matthew's part. Surely this was some sort of joke?

"Come on! Aren't you going to say something?"

Matthew remained mute.

"I mean, my rent's gotta be paid in a few days, so... now's the time to flyyyy~!"

No response.

"I bet you're only quiet because you're dying of excitement!"

The silence was quickly starting to stretch far and wide.

"Mattie!"

"Yes?" Matthew immediately responded.

"I'm going to live with you!"

"So you say."

"Aren't you excited?"

Matthew watched Alfred with conflicted eyes. What was he supposed to do? What was he supposed to say? Was he just supposed to refuse his brother's offer? He could offend Alfred if he did that. Was he supposed to just accept it and invite Alfred to live with him? That could prove to be problematic in the future. No, scratch that- it was a problem right now. He couldn't afford to house Alfred. And what of Arthur? "What about your son?"

"What? Speak up."

"I said, what about your son?"

"Oh, he'll come too of course."

Matthew suddenly deflated. How would he be able to look after two children and an Alfred? He had work to do and he doubted that his babysitter would be very happy with looking after three kids. "This... this is a joke, right?"

"A joke? Of course not! Oh, how you insult me, dear brother!"

"So you're... serious about this?"

"Duh."

"Why?"

Alfred smiled, "To help you out, of course."

"To help me... out?"

"Well yeah."

Matthew forced himself to smile back at Alfred. How was he going to tell his brother that he would be more of a liability than a help? How was he supposed to tell him that he would just make it that much harder for him? "What, er... what would you do?"

"Well, I figured I'd just stay home and help out with the kids."

"Kids?"

"Yeah, kids. Arthur's gonna be there. I just told you that."

"Oh. That's right, you did." Matthew awkwardly turned his head away to stare at some of the customers waiting for their orders. He drummed his fingers on the edge of the table before musing, "Huh. Didn't peg you to be a stay-at-home dad."

Alfred shrugged, "Eh, I'm not good with work. Work is awful. And boring. I'd much rather stay at home- in fact, I already do. Part of the reason why I got fi-" Alfred stopped abruptly.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What were you just going to say?"

"Nothing." Alfred repeated, shifting his eyes away. That man was a terrible liar...

"Alfred..."

The elder brother released something between a groan and a sigh and threw his head back, "Oh alright! I got fired, okay?"

"Fired? Al-"

Alfred held up a finger, "Don't start, Matthew. That job was fucking awful and my ex-boss was mental. If I hadn't been fired, I would've quit."

Matthew started weakly, "Al..."

Alfred shook his head, "I don't want to hear it, Matt. What's done is done."

The two brothers sat in silence and Matthew couldn't help but wonder what the hell Alfred had done. Just a few weeks ago, he'd been bragging about his job at Subway and about how he got to eat what he wanted (which he wasn't technically allowed to do, but Alfred wasn't really one for following rules). Then again, that had been a few weeks ago... before _she _died...

"Could... could you at least tell me what happened?" Matthew broke the silence softly before he could take a trip down memory lane... a trip he really didn't feel like going on right now.

Alfred averted his gaze and turned his head to the window, his arms behind his head and his hands supporting it, "Not right now. Maybe later."

"Alright then. But... if you're unemployed now... and if your rent's due in a matter of days, then... doesn't that mean...?" Matthew paused, finally fitting the pieces together. It finally made sense, why Alfred wanted to stay over. He was just going to use Matthew's apartment because he didn't have the money to pay for his own anymore. After all, Alfred had always complained about money problems. Really, in light of this new information, Matthew didn't know whether to feel relieved or angry. Relieved because Alfred didn't think he was a loser who needed 'help' (at least, Matthew hoped he didn't) and angry because he was just using him and his apartment. Although in truth, Matthew didn't know if he had it in him to be angry. At least, not right now. "Oh. I see."

Alfred's eyes flickered over to his younger brother and he (surprisingly) seemed to pick up on what Matthew was thinking, "It's not like that; I mean it is, but it isn't. I really do want to help out, Matthew."

Matthew didn't say anything, instead opting to bob his head.

"I mean, I _might _have the money to pay the damn rent, but then I won't have any for video games, and Arthur..." Alfred trailed on, staring at Matthew pitifully. Matthew looked right back at him, his will beginning to crumble. It was just- Alfred looked so damn pitiful and just plain _sad_.

"I-I could lend you some money, I suppose..."

Alfred's puppy-dog expression was wiped away in an instant, "No! I mean, that sounds cool and all, but I'd rather we just stayed with you!"

Huh. It wasn't like Alfred to say 'no' to money. "Why?"

"I already told you. I could help out. I could look after Francis while you're at work-"

"-he has a babysitter-"

"-I could clean and... and cook!"

"You're a terrible cook, Alfred."

"That's mean, Mattie."

"Sorry." Matthew apologised.

"Besides, I'm an awesome cook. I can make burgers!"

"That's all you can make."

"I can also make hot dogs!"

"Mmm, burgers and hot dogs every day. Delicious."

"I know, right?"

"I was being sarcastic, Al."

"Sarcasm doesn't suit you."

"I know. I'm sorry."

Alfred waved it off, "It's okay. I forgive you. So..."

"So...?"

"Is it okay if Arthur and I come live with you?"

Matthew's gaze dropped to the table. He could be the bad guy and be completely honest- tell Alfred that he would rather give him the money (he couldn't let his brother live on the street, after all) and continue living life without any 'help'. Or he could be the good guy and lie- invite Alfred over and tell him to stay for as long as he needed (wanted). Matthew didn't want to lie, but he also didn't want to be mean. Besides, it wasn't just Alfred he had to take into consideration- it was Francis and Arthur, too. Those two did not get along. Still, though... Matthew couldn't bear the thought of his brother and nephew living off of charity money and just barely getting by. He sighed. There was only one option then...

"Alright."

Alfred must not have heard, because there was no whoop of pure joy that followed.

"Alright, Alfred. You can come." Matthew repeated a little louder (but not too loud).

"What...?"

Matthew sighed for what felt like the umpteenth time that day, "Do you need me to repeat that for you?"

"Are you serious? You'll really let me and Arthur stay?" _Arthur and I, Arthur and I, Arthur and I..._

"Yes...?"

...And there was Alfred's whoop of pure joy. "Oh, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!" Alfred exploded into a dozen sparkly stars that flew out of the restaurant and into the bright sky. Matthew smiled at him.

Alfred grinned, his eyes twinkling, "You won't regret this, bro!"

_I hope not._

After a few more minutes of Alfred dancing in his seat and singing (much to the annoyance of everyone else in the restaurant, with the exception of Matthew, who was merely an amused on-looker), Matthew wondered what time it was. He looked down at his watch and cursed, "Maple..."

"Huh?"

Matthew's head snapped up, "I have to go."

Alfred's previously cheery countenance fell, "What! Why? I thought this was your day off?!"

"It is."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I need to pick up Francis."

"But it's Saturday." Alfred pointed out.

"I'm well aware of that, thanks. I need to take him to the dentist. He has an appointment in a little less than an hour. If I don't go get him now, we'll be late. Come on, I'll drop you off at your apartment."

"Oh. Hey, I'll come with you!"

"Obviously, I'm dropping you off-"

"No, I meant I'll come with you and we can both take Franny to the dent-!"

"No." Matthew shot down immediately.

"Come on! It'll be great! It'll be like uncle-nephew bonding time or something!"

"I'm just taking him to the dentist, Alfred." Matthew stood up and grabbed his jacket.

"And so will I!"

"No, you won't. Besides, don't you have your own son to get back to?"

Alfred huffed, "Hey, Kiku's taking good care of him right now. Arthur really needs to spend more time with his uncle."

"Kiku isn't his uncle-"

"Yes he is! You take that back right now!" Alfred 'lightly' punched Matthew's forearm.

"OK, I take it back... you didn't need to punch me."

"Sorry. Now let's go!"

"Alfred-"

"Nah, nah, nah, I'm goin' with you!"

"You know what? Fine. I don't have time to argue with you. Just get in the car." Matthew relented and looked on as Alfred ran over to Matthew's red car with a giant whoop. He couldn't believe he had just allowed Alfred to live with him _and_ allowed him to come to the dentist with Matthew and Francis (although really, there was nothing particularly wrong with the latter one- it's not like he could really do anything there anyway). God, he was such a pushover.


	2. Car Troubles

**Chapter Two- Car Troubles**

"Hey Mattie, speed up! Come on, bro. Go faster!"

Heaving a sigh, Matthew's eyes flickered over to Alfred, "I can't go any faster; I'd be pushing the speed limit."

Alfred pouted, "Just go a _tiny _bit faster then."

"No."

"Why not?" Alfred whined.

"I just told you why not. Besides, I'm not up for getting a speeding ticket."

Alfred huffed, "You're gonna be late for Francis' appointment at this rate... and I gotta go number one."

"Whose fault is that?"

"Yours. You let me have all that coke."

"You're right, I'm sorry. It's obviously my fault that you have no self-restraint." Matthew muttered, but Alfred didn't hear him.

"Drive faster, I gotta pee!"

"Why didn't you go before?"

"Because I didn't need to then!" Alfred ignored Matthew's eye roll and continued, "Either go faster or pull over so I can take a leak."

With eyes trained on the road in front of him, Matthew answered, "We're almost there. Just hold it in for a while."

"I can't!" Alfred groaned as he started bouncing a little in his seat. He was starting to grow restless, but Matthew couldn't really do anything about it. Alfred was watching Matthew intently like a hawk out of the corner of his eyes, his hands placed in between his legs. He started tapping his feet for a few seconds before jiggling his legs. It unnerved Matthew a little.

"Alfred, I know it's hard, but could you please hold it in for just a bit longer? We'll be home in ten minutes tops." Matthew's only response was a silent whine. Alfred's eyes screwed up and he grimaced, his face morphing into a pained expression. Matthew knew all too well what that meant. "Alright, Alright. We'll stop at the next gas station or something. Just... just don't urinate in my car, please."

"Thanks, man. You're the best."

"I know." Matthew murmured.

"Well, second best. I'm the best. No wait- you're the third best. Or fourth. Maybe fifth. Actually, you're the sixth best-"

"I get it, Al. I'm the sixth best."

"No, hang on- you're the ninth best."

"You can stop now."

"You're probably the eleventh-"

"Oh look, we're here." Matthew interjected, making a sharp turn at the nearest exit. He drove to the parking lot and parked the car. Before he could stop the car, Alfred opened the door and leaped out of the vehicle, rushing towards the gas station. Matthew shook his head after him a little and leaned back against his seat. He could feel the vibrations from the car course through his body and he closed his eyes, waiting for Alfred to come back. He stayed like that for a while, resting on the driver's seat with his eyes shut. He waited for so long that it started to get slightly chilly inside the car. He peeled one eyelid back and stared at the wide-open car door. So Alfred still hadn't come back. Sighing, Matthew unbuckled his seat belt and got out of the car. He headed for the gas station, hands buried inside his large pockets.

As soon as he stepped inside, he was greeted with a gust of warm air. He scanned the area for his brother and when he finally caught the blond-haired idiot grabbing a large chocolate bar, he made a beeline straight for him with hurried footsteps. Alfred inspected the bar of chocolate, shaking his head a little as he placed it back in its original place. When Matthew reached him, he tapped his shoulders, causing Alfred to nearly jump out of his skin.

"Nyah!"

"Al, what are you doing? I thought you needed the toilet."

"I did. I already went, so I figured I'd just take a look around. You know, see if you wanted anything. So... do you?"

Matthew's unimpressed look was answer enough.

"I'll take that as a 'no', then..." Alfred awkwardly turned on the spot to face the many delicacies that begged to be eaten. Alfred bent forward slightly with a hand hovering over all the wondrous goodies. To eat or not to eat? That was the question.

"Alfred, we need to leave now. We've already wasted enough time."

"Yeah, hang on a sec..."

Matthew waited patiently for a few more moments, but it seemed that Alfred just couldn't make his mind up, "Alfred, we really need to go-"

"In a minute, in a minute! I'm picking out something for my nephew, okay? Sheesh."

Matthew blinked and questioned in disbelief, "You're picking out chocolate for a boy who's just about to go to the dentist's?"

"Yeah, now be quiet. I can't focus with you breathing down my neck like that."

Matthew's disapproving eyes stared down at him through his glasses, "Fine, I'll just leave you behind then."

"Yeah, you do that." Alfred muttered to himself, not really paying any attention. It was only when he heard footsteps walking away that he realised what his brother was doing, "Wait!" Alfred swiped a random chocolate bar before hurrying over to the counter. Matthew watched him pay for the chocolate and as soon as Alfred had, he sauntered back over to Matthew.

"Now we can go."

The brothers left the gas station and headed back to the car. Before they even reached the vehicle, Alfred sprinted over to the driver's seat, "I get to drive now!"

"No you don't."  
"Why not?"

"It's my car."

"So?"

"So I drive."

Alfred stuck his tongue out, "Too late."

Before Matthew could protest, Alfred slipped inside and buckled up. Alfred blew a raspberry at his brother, causing Matthew to rub his temples. Alfred could be such a pain. Deciding to let Alfred have his way (again), Matthew trudged towards the passenger's seat. He went inside and buckled his seat belt.

"Do you think we should refuel the car? It looks like it might be running out of gas." Matthew stated, his eyes locked on the dashboard.

"Nah!"

"We are running low though..."

"Don't be silly, Matt! We've got enough."

"But it looks like it's going to-"

"Mattie, Mattie, relax. We'll be fine. Besides, shouldn't we get back to Francis right now? If we don't go now, he'll be late for his appointment." Alfred trilled.  
Matthew hesitated for a moment, but eventually conceded, "I guess you're right."

"'Course I'm right." Alfred drove out of the parking lot and back onto the main road. He turned the radio on, making music blast from the speakers. Matthew tried to ignore the horrible sound that emitted from the radio, but it proved to be too hard to tune out, "Could you turn the volume down?"

Alfred didn't seem to hear him. He was too busy trying to sing along.

"Al," Matthew petitioned, "turn it down please."

"What?" Alfred yelled at Matthew, making the younger brother wince.

"Turn the volume down."

"Oh." Alfred fiddled with the dials and, to Matthew's horror, increased the volume.

"What are you doing?" Matthew demanded.

"Listening to music."

Matthew's ear drums almost exploded and it felt like his brain was rattling inside his cranium. He outstretched a hand to turn the volume down, but it was batted away. His eyes narrowed slightly at his idiotic brother, who was still singing horribly off-key, "Alfred, turn it down."

Alfred shook his head, singing (shouting) at the top of his lungs. Huffing, Matthew slapped Alfred's forearm. It hadn't even affected Alfred at all, but the man tilted his head sideways to face Matthew with a mildly astonished expression, "What d'you do that for?"

"Turn the volume down, _please_." Matthew pleaded, his eyes fixed on the road straight ahead. Alfred pouted, but obeyed nonetheless. Matthew released a sigh of relief, "Thank-you."

Alfred grunted in acknowledgement, pressing his foot down on the acceleration pedal. Alfred smirked as he revved the car and it began to pick up speed. Matthew's eyes widened exponentially, "Alfred, w-what are you doing? Slow down."

"I thought we were in a hurry, Mattie."

"We are; y-you don't need to go so fast though, eh."

As always, Alfred ignored Matthew. The car zoomed past others in the same lane, causing more than one person to honk at them. Matthew gazed far ahead at the red light that gleamed in their direction, waiting for Alfred to slow down. When his brother made no move to do so, Matthew began to worry a little.

"It's a red light, Al."

Alfred's eyes flickered over to Matthew for a moment before flicking back to stare out of the windshield, "I can see that, Mattie."

Much to Matthew's relief (and surprise), Alfred slowed to a stop. Alfred took out the bar of chocolate from his pocket and unwrapped the wrapper from it. He bit down into the chocolate and moaned, "This is delicious! Here, Mattie- try some!"

Matthew ignored the bar of chocolate that was swaying from side to side, inches away from his face, "I thought that was for Francis?"

"He'll get some too." Alfred took another bite. "So do you want some?"

"No thank-you."

Alfred shrugged, "Suit yourself." he continued eating. When he was at least half-way through the bar, he wrapped it back up again and stuffed it in his pocket. He turned to face Matthew with a smile on his face, "Think Francis'll be excited by the news?"

Matthew pretended not to know what Alfred was talking about, "That you ate his chocolate bar?"

"No," Alfred scowled, "and I didn't eat all of it. I'm talking about Artie and I staying over at your place."

"I doubt he'll like that particular news at all..."

Alfred looked genuinely surprised, "Why'd ya say that?"

"He hates Arthur."

"Oh. Yeah. Forgot about that," Alfred hummed, "think he'll be excited to see me though?"

Matthew's lack of answer worried Alfred. They drove on in utter silence (on Matthew's part) and after getting past a shit-ton of traffic, they finally arrived. As soon as the car was parked, Alfred turned off the engine and eagerly hopped out, waiting for Matthew to do the same. Matthew got out of the car and was led inside the apartment building by an overly-energetic Alfred. They climbed up the many flights of stairs, Alfred complaining about how long it took to reach Matthew's apartment the entire time.

They eventually arrived at their destination and Matthew plunged his hands into his pockets, rummaging about for his house key. He frowned ever so slightly when he couldn't feel it. He bit his lip, purposely avoiding Alfred's watchful eyes.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing, just, um..." Matthew's lip almost started bleeding due to him biting it so hard.

Alfred shot him a sympathetic look, "Lost your key, huh?"

Matthew nodded somewhat sheepishly. Alfred reached out a forefinger and and pressed the door bell. Footsteps could be heard from the other side, each one louder than the previous one. The door opened to reveal a short, blonde woman with long hair that flowed down her back. Her icy blue eyes seemed to pierce right through them. She would've looked extremely beautiful had it not been for the scowl etched upon her face, "You're late."

"I'm sorry," Matthew apologised instantly, "I know I should've come back sooner, it wasn't fair to make you wait so long. We just-"

"Save it," the woman held up a hand to stop Matthew before he could begin his full apology, "I don't want to hear your excuses. Just get in and take your brat."

Alfred stared at the woman, completely flabbergasted by the rude tone in which she spoke in. Matthew, on the other hand, threw her another apologetic look before stepping past her. He made his way to the kitchen, leaning over the counter in order to find the correct papers which confirmed Francis' appointment. He could clearly make out the faint, fast footfalls of something rushing in his direction.

"Papa!" something threw itself at Matthew and latched itself onto his leg, clutching it tightly. Matthew looked down to see a mop of blond- almost golden- hair that undoubtedly belonged to his son, who was clinging onto his leg like a life-line. A smile blossomed on the Canadian's face. He rested his hand on top of Francis' head and regarded him with a fond look.

"Did you have a nice day?"

Francis seemed to hesitate a little, before shaking his head and answering, "No."

"Oh?" Matthew gently pried Francis' arms off and knelt down in front of him, "Why not?"

"She's mean." Francis stated with a serious expression. Matthew raised an eyebrow, having an inkling as to who 'she' might be.

"She's not that bad."

Francis gave his father a look, "Yes she is."

"She does a lot for you, you know. Miss Arlovskaya is kind enough to look after you while I'm away."

"She's still mean."

Before Matthew could say anything else, a loud voice announced a certain man's presence, "Heeeeeeey kiddo! It's meeee~!"

Francis only had enough time to process who that voice belonged to before he was scooped up.

"D'aww, you're so cute!" Alfred gushed, "You've gotten so big since I last saw you! Give your unca a hug!"

Matthew suppressed a laugh at the expression on his son's face. He stood back up and watched Francis attempting to resist a bear hug from his uncle. He stared at them for a while, until the sound of a particularly loud tick coming from the only clock in the room made him realise what time it was. "Francis, we've got to go to the dentist's now."

Almost instantly, the child's eyes widened in fear, "Non!"

"Francis-"

"Non, non, non, non, non, non, non!"

"Calm down, it's not that bad-"

"J'veux pas y aller!"

Matthew seemed to be at a loss of how to handle this and sent a pleading look in Alfred's direction. Alfred set Francis back down and withdrew what remained of the large chocolate bar from his pocket. "See this? You can have it if you go to _le dentiste_ appointment. Ça, er- will be toute á toi."

Matthew cringed at the slandering way that Alfred pronounced French words. Alfred didn't know much French, (he didn't know much of anything) but he would often butcher what little he knew with his mis-pronunciation. You could tell that he wasn't fluent in the language.

"Vraiment?"

Alfred stared at Francis blankly before turning to face Matthew, "What does that mean?"

Matthew sighed, "It means 'really'."

"Oh," Alfred turned back to Francis, "Vremun."

Matthew wanted to cry at the way Alfred slaughtered the word. Glancing down at his watch for a split second, Matthew immediately piped up, "We need to leave."

Before either Alfred or Francis could say anything, Matthew ushered them out of the apartment. He quickly grabbed his key from the key-hanger and locked the door behind him.

"Where's the scary babysitter?" Alfred asked, eyes roaming around the hall in search of said babysitter.

"Natalya's probably already left by now."

"Without even telling you?"

"Don't worry; she always does that." Matthew assured Alfred as they left the building. They made their way to the car and Francis tottled towards the passenger's door. Matthew noticed this and raised an eyebrow, "What are you doing, Francis?"

"Front seat." Francis answered plainly, his innocent cerulean eyes boring into the depths of his father's soul.

Matthew shook his head, "Sorry, Francis; that's Uncle Alfred's seat."

Francis' bottom lip trembled a little.

"Don't cry, Franny! You can have my seat!" Alfred blurted out upon seeing Francis' heartbroken expression.

"Al."

Alfred turned pleading eyes to Matthew, "Just look at him, Matt."

"He's too young to sit in the front."

"Psh, you can never be too young. Just give him a booster seat or something."

Francis looked alarmed and Matthew said hurriedly, "He's too old for that."

"Then don't add the booster seat. Just let him sit in the front. Come on... you know you can't say no to that face." Alfred waved a hand in Francis' direction.

Matthew purposely avoided looking at his son, "I can say no to yours though."

"Mattie..." two pairs of blue eyes widened as the two blonds in front of Matthew formed puppy-dog expressions. It took Matthew every ounce of willpower to prevent himself from yielding to those sad looks.

"We're going to be late. Get in the back, Francis," Matthew said, then added as an afterthought, "please."

Francis's shoulders slumped in defeat as he trailed towards the back doors. Alfred mimicked his action but headed for the passenger's seat instead. As soon as everyone was inside and buckled in, Matthew started the car and set off. His eyes flickered down at the dashboard for a split second. Oh yeah. They were definitely going to be late. He raised his eyes up to focus on the road ahead, trying to ignore the racket that his brother and son were making.

"Drive faster Mattie!"

"Yeah! Faster!" Francis agreed.

"Believe me, I'm going as fast as I can-"

"Dude, you're driving at the pace of a snail. Don't want Franny here to be late, now do you?"

"He's already late," Matthew pointed out, "maybe I should've just cancelled-"

"Trust me, it's a good thing you didn't. Then he'd have to wait for his next appointment in torment. It's better we just put him out of his misery now." Alfred looked back to face Francis, who had a quizzical expression on his face.

Matthew frowned, "I think you could've worded that better."  
Alfred shrugged, turning back to face forward, "Meh. It's true though. Which is exactly why you should speed up."

"I can't, I'd be exceeding the speed limit-"

"Look, who cares about the stupid speeding limit, we really need to hurry up... before Francis wets himself."

"What?" Francis released a surprised chirp. Matthew glanced up at the rearview mirror and commented, "He seems fine to me."

"Uh, you have bad vision then 'cause he looks like he's about to explode." Alfred quipped and Francis' face coloured.

Matthew frowned a little, "Francis, if you need the toilet, just say so."

"I don't!" Francis burst out and Alfred giggled a little at the look on his nephew's face. Matthew's eyebrows shot up upon hearing Alfred actually giggle; he would normally just boom with laughter.

"Hee hee, he's so cute! Mattie, how come you have such an adorable son?"

Matthew shrugged, although a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. A high-pitched beeping noise alerted the trio that something wasn't quite right; indeed, it seemed that they were running low on fuel.

"Damn it Matt! I told you we needed to refuel the car!"

"Language," Matthew reprimanded softly, eyeing Francis for a moment as if to tell Alfred that they were in the presence of a child before staring out at the road ahead once more, "besides, I'm the one who said we needed to pump up the car."

"Pfft, yeah right. Your memory's gettin' kinda bad. Maybe you should go see a doctor."

Matthew resisted the urge to roll his eyes, "Whatever. I guess we'll need to find another gas station."

"J'peux aller aux toillette?"

"What did he say?" Alfred questioned.

"He wants to go to the toilet."

"Ha! I knew it!"

Francis pouted, causing Alfred to yet again fawn over how insanely cute he was.

"Maple." Matthew breathed as the bleeping noise only got louder.

"What was that?"

"We're running out pretty quickly; take a look." Matthew indicated to the fuel dial, which was currently on 'empty'. A sputtering noise could be heard from behind the car and Francis turned around in his seat to look behind them.

"Oh shit." Alfred said as the car began to decelerate.

"Language." Matthew managed to whisper, but no one heard him. He pulled over at the side of the road and the car broke down. He squeezed his eyes shut and lowered his head to bury it in his arms, leaning forward on the steering wheel. Alfred looked baffled and Francis beamed.

"Does this mean I don't have to go to the dentist?"

**A/N: OK, that was a pretty lame chapter with a pretty lame ending, but I really felt as if I needed to write more for some reason. And yeah, I made Natalya the scary babysitter :) muahahaha! Sorry if the characters are OOC; this story is really just for fun (that doesn't mean I don't want to see it blossom into something much better or improve it or anything). Anyway, here are some translations:**

**Non - no**

**J'veux pas y aller – I don't wanna go**

**le dentiste – the dentist**

**Ça - It**

**toute á toi – all yours**

**J'peux aller aux toillette? - Can I go to the toilet?**

**And I think that about covers it. Have a nice midsummer, guys. Reviews are extremely helpful :)**


	3. Of Car Rides and Bedtime Stories

**A/N: Ladies and Gentlemen, I have returned! Surprised? Well, so am I- but only by the fact that it took me almost a year and a half to update. I honestly and truly apologise for this unbelievable hiatus, and I promise that I will not let it happen again (or with any of my stories, for that matter). I would like to note that this chapter contains the mention of a character named "Cypriot Karpusi", who is the character of Cyprus in Hetalia (as he has not been given a "human name", by Himaruya or the fans). I had debated on whether or not to use the humanised version of Cypus or TRNC, however later settled on Cyprus for reasons that are soon to be revealed. I thank you all for your continued support though, and I hope that you will accept this fluff-filled chapter as a peace-offering. Have fun reading, and as always, any feedback is welcome ;)**

* * *

**Chapter Three- Of Car Rides and Bedtime Stories**

It was already nightfall when they finally returned.

An astronomical, bright full-moon hung up high in the obsidian sky, plastered against its piceous, starless backdrop. The moon served as the only source of natural light, embracing everything in its wake with its gleaming sheen. The moonshine stretched far and wide, seemingly touching the tips of the highest buildings. Everything would have been completely shrouded in darkness, had it not been for the moon and the gleaning street lamps, lined alongside the pavement like bright dominoes. Despite this, however, there were two, tiny little things that rivalled the fluorescence of the moon and the luminance of the artificial lights combined.

These things happened to come in the form of a pair of sparkling, cerulean orbs.

The azure-eyed child gazed up in fatigued wonderment at the moon, his palms pressed against the car's window pane. His plump, red lips quirked upwards to form a slightly sleepy smile, his eyelids slowly fluttering over impossibly wide eyes. He could dully auscultate his father and uncle discussing something in hushed undertones, with his uncle occasionally raising his voice excitedly only to be shushed by his father. The little boy could faintly hear the adults passively venting about how long it had taken to get the car fixed, with his father scolding his dopey uncle for acting so brashly with someone they had encountered. The blue-eyed child attempted to tune them out, resting his head on the window as they drove past numerous trees.

"-I mean, can you believe that stupid kid? What a fucking dick,-"

"Alfred!" came the sharp rebuke that had been doomed to follow.

"-acting all smug and shit-"

"Al-"

"- and running his fat mouth off at us. Who does he think he is? Kids have no respect these days, I swear-"

"That's rather hypocritical of you to say, don't you think?"

His older brother threw him an unamused look, "You know what I mean, Matthew. That kid was a rude little shi-"

"_Alfred!_" Matthew reprimanded once more, daring a glance at his older brother before flicking his eyes back to the road.

"What? You know I'm right."

"In case it escaped your notice, Alfred, there is a _child _in this car." Matthew emphasised.

"Francis? Pfft," Alfred waved off nonchalantly, "He's probably fast asleep."

"With your incessant yelling? Somehow I doubt that."

"Oh yeah? Watch," Alfred turned around in his seat and called boisterously, "Hey Franny, you awake?"

The golden-haired child raised his deep, cerulean eyes up to meet his uncle's gaze. He groggily stared back at Alfred through half-lidded eyes, lifting his chin up ever-so-slightly. Alfred's overly-excited expression slipped from his face almost instantly, only to be replaced with an adoring one. His eyes widened in veneration.

"Aww," Alfred cooed shamelessly, "He looks so cute! Oh, I could just squeeze his wittle cheeks!"

"Is he asleep?"

"No, but he looks like he's about to nod off." Alfred informed, his eyes still fixed on his ethereal-looking nephew.

"Well, stop pestering him and let him sleep."

"But he's so cute!"

"Al."

Alfred pouted, but eventually relented (albeit reluctantly). He turned back in his seat and stared out of the wind shield, throwing his younger brother pitiful glances every-so-often.

It didn't take very long for the brother duo to find another subject to talk about, and Francis was (for the most part) left in reticence. He parted his juicy lips to release an inaudible yawn, letting his head fall back against the window with a dull thud. He tilted his head upwards, his eyes of azure gazing up at the moon tiredly. Francis inhaled and exhaled rhythmically, his chest rising and falling in a peaceful manner. He allowed his eyelids to flutter to a close over his beautiful, oddly unique cobalt-coloured eyes.

It was only a matter of time before he peacefully drifted off to an undisturbed sleep. He appeared rather placid, with his tiny, chubby little hands balled into fists and safely tucked under his chin, and his head solely propped up by the window. His breathing came out in the form of almost muted wheezes, so very close to becoming quiet snores. He looked utterly serene.

It was a shame that the same could not be said for the blond duo seated up front.

"-can't believe you forgot to call Kiku-"

"We were busy, dude, it's not like it ever crossed my mind to give him a call."

"I doubt anything crosses your mind." Matthew muttered under his breath.

"What was that?"

"I said we had loads of time at the impound, enough for you to check up on your son." Matthew rectified, if only to avoid further argument.

"Pfft, he's fine-"

"Oh, I don't doubt it. I just can't believe that you didn't even forewarn Kiku that we were going to be late. The poor man."

"Hey, I was busy looking after Francis while you dealt with the car, remember?" Alfred defended.

Matthew merely shook his head, "Nothing to be done about it now, I suppose. You'll just have to pay Kiku for looking after Arthur longer than was previewed."

Alfred spluttered, "Pay?! I don't pay Kiku, he does it for free!"

"That explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Listen, giving him a small fee for all his troubles really won't do you any harm. Goodness knows the poor man deserves it. It's just the nice thing to do, Alfred."

"But he doesn't need the money-"

"It's got nothing to do with that." Matthew interrupted, his eyebrows creased into a light frown.

"But **I'm** the one who's broke here-!"

"Giving him a few dollars isn't going to make you any less 'broke'. Besides, he's probably wasting his free time when he could be doing something else with his own family. He does have kids of his own to look after, you know."

"They'll be fine. They're being looked after by Karpusi. He's a great babysitter!"

"...Alfred, he's three years old."

"Not him, Matt!" Alfred exclaimed incredulously, "His older brother! Geeze, did ya really think _Heracles_ was the one lookin' after them?"

"You're right. That was silly of me," Matthew admitted sheepishly (in truth, he had rather forgotten about the elder Karpusi child...), before growing serious instantaneously, "But even so, Al. Besides, if the Karpusi boy's such a good babysitter, why didn't you hire him instead?"

Alfred rolled a shoulder back, "Arthur doesn't like him so much."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Artie made a fuss in the bathtub and nearly bit Karpusi's fingers off when being put to bed."

Matthew winced in sympathy, "Poor kid."

"Yeah. Arthur was pretty shaken up, didn't trust much babysitters after that, poor baby."

"I wasn't talking about Arthur."

"Oh." Alfred appeared contemplative for a moment (something that was very rare indeed), "Well, I'm pretty sure Cyprion got over it."

Matthew hummed, but did not comment. Conversation seemed to die at that point, with Matthew focusing solely on driving while Alfred was enraptured in a world of his own and idiosyncratically silent. It was only when they arrived that the comfortable silence was broken by Matthew, much to Alfred's surprise.

"How are you going to get back home?"

Alfred scrunched up his nose, scratching the back of his head, "I was kinda hoping you could take me home. Put Francis to bed and drive me back."

Matthew rose a sceptical brow, "And leave a five-year-old on his own?"

"Oh yeah. Didn't think about that."

Matthew muttered something incoherent under his breath.

Alfred shrugged a shoulder nonchalantly, "Guess I'll have to take a taxi then."

"Are you sure?" Matthew's tone of voice bordered on a worried one.

"Yeah, pretty sure."

"..."

"..."

"...On second thoughts, maybe I _could_ just drive you now, without dropping off Francis-"

"Nah, I'll just take a cab. Wouldn't wanna trouble you or anything."

Matthew did not stop to contemplate the irony of those words.

However, he insisted, "It would be no trouble-"

"Mattie," Alfred turned to look at the younger of the duo, "Francis is probably tired. It would be better for him to get to bed. I mean sure, if someone was there to look after him, I'd be more than happy to let you drive me back, now that you mentioned it. But as it is..."

Matthew didn't reply for a while, opting to incline his head in a begrudging nod before finally conceding, "Alright. Do you at least have money?"

"Yeah. I think I've got enough."

Matthew wasn't convinced, "Well, take some of mine just in case-"

"Dude, dude!" Alfred interjected, gaping at his brother with wide eyes, "I could never just take your money like that!"

"Why not? You do it all the time."

Alfred scrunched up his nose, "Oh yeah. Huh," he looked away for a moment before posing, "How, er- how much were you planning on giving me?"

"Just enough."

"How much is 'enough'?"

"Enough for a taxi."

"Okay... how much is enough for a taxi?"

Matthew shot him a look, "Just enough."

"'Kay."

They were nearly there now, so close to their destination. Matthew rounded a corner and wound up in the parking lot of his apartment building. While trying to find a place to park the car, a strangled sort of snore resounded throughout the vehicle.

"Looks like he's finally fallen asleep." Matthew observed, his eyes darting upwards to peer out of the rear-view mirror.

Alfred turned in his seat, watching Francis through adoring eyes, "Yeah... hey Mattie?"

"Yes, Alfred?"

"How did you get such an adorable son?"

"I stole him from a succubus and an incubus who happened upon the area."

"...You stole him from a what and a what?"

"From sexy seducers, basically." Matthew simplified.

"All I understood from that was 'sexy'."

"Never mind. It was a lame joke."

"Wait, that was a joke?"

Matthew didn't bother to deign that with an answer, finally finding a place to park his car. When he had done so, he quietly suggested, "We should probably wake him up."

Alfred looked horror-struck, "We can't do that!"

"We have to."

"Don't you know what waking a little kid is like? They will either fall back asleep again or get mad. Neither of which are beneficainial-"

"Beneficial." Matthew corrected before he could stop himself.  
"-and the least thing I want to do right now is wake an innocent, sleeping child. Trust me, it will end badly if we do." Alfred warned seriously, his head tipped downwards as a gleam of light reflected from his rimless eyeglasses.

Matthew cocked an eyebrow, but relented, "Okay then. I'll just carry him back then, shall I?"

"Or I could do it if it bothers you." Alfred offered hopefully.

Matthew, not about to deny his brother the joys of being an uncle, gave a nod, "If you want to."

Alfred mentally whooped as he unbuckled his seatbelt and bounded out of the car. Matthew watched him out of the window as Alfred opened the back door closest to Francis and freed the child from his confines, gathering him up in strong, toned arms and lifting him out. He propped the slumbering child up just above the hip, supporting Francis' head as it lolled to the crook of his neck. Francis' beautiful golden hair brushed against Alfred's cheek as he nuzzled his head closer, his reddish lips parted to allow vocalisation in the form of barely audible snores. A dribble of drool slowly made its way out of his mouth, sticking to his chin as Alfred made his way back to Matthew, who had long since vacated the vehicle.

"Have you got the key this time?" Alfred jibbed teasingly as they headed towards the apartment building.

Matthew sighed and fixed Alfred with an unamused look, prompting the older brother to release a stream of continuous cackles.

They entered the building as silently as possible, their shuffling movements seemingly resounding throughout the area, what with being the only audible noises in the vicinity. Alfred, who had been the first inside, released his hold on the silver handle and let the glass door return to its rightful place- only for it to come into contact with Matthew's face, whacking his nose. The impact emitted quite the noise, Francis very close to stirring for a while before settling back down against his uncle's shoulder. His father suppressed a pained groan as he clutched at his nose, gripping it tightly with pallid hands.

"Al!"

Alfred turned to his younger brother sheepishly, "Heh, my bad."

Matthew regarded him through exasperated, purplish-blue eyes. He kept his lips pursed into a thin line as he followed Alfred upstairs, walking in step with him. The lights overhead clinked on, lighting up like dominoes on the ceiling.

"That light's cracked." Alfred pointed out, his gaze directed upwards at one of the flickering light bulbs, failing to turn itself on properly.

Matthew mimicked his action and breathed, "So it is."

Conversation made itself scarce as Alfred, in an admittedly uncharacteristic manner, had nothing more to say and was actually tired for once, as opposed to being hyped up with seemingly endless energy. Every-so-often, Francis would stretch his little arms and his minuscule fists would grip some of Alfred's blue jacket, automatically clenching around some fistfuls of it. He'd often times shift around in Alfred's arms, trying to find a more comfortable position in which to sleep. Alfred found the act oddly adorable, contenting himself with tightening his hold around his beloved nephew. Matthew kept his eyes locked on something straight ahead, his hand instinctively buried deep in his pocket, scrounging about for his key. They reached the landing in almost no time at all, Matthew taking the lead as he procured his silver house key. Upon reaching the correct door, he carefully inserted the key into the lock and twisted it, pushing the door open and stepping inside. He wiped his feet on the doormat, making sure to get rid of every speck of dirt as he did so. His hand knowingly reached out towards the closest light switch to flick it up, effectively illuminating the entranceway. He slipped his jacket off and hung it on the coat hanger, straightening his cuffs before entering the kitchen. He could hear Alfred close the door behind him as he followed him inside.

"Should I put him to bed?" Alfred questioned as Matthew plucked his coal-black leather gloves off finger by finger.

"Go ahead." Matthew permitted dismissively, placing one glove over the other before gently slapping them down on the kitchen table.

Alfred turned to leave, his heavy footsteps creating a forceful echo as he made his way towards Francis' bedroom, stepping out into the small hallway. He spotted the large, dark blue door that led to Francis' room and immediately made a beeline for it, taking slow and steady steps towards his destination. When he was close enough, he pushed the door open with the use of a broad shoulder, noting that it had already been somewhat ajar. He stepped inside and towards the (admittedly small) single bed, his outstretched hand closing around the edge of the covers and pulling them back using his left hand. Alfred slowly leaned forwards and lowered the slumbering figure into bed, setting him down on the soft mattress, his right hand coming up to support his head.

Alfred gently laid Francis' head down on his downy-filled pillow, his hand slipping out from under his head and out of his entangling golden locks. He took a moment to beam down at him, a benign little smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached back for Francis' beryl-coloured duvet, lifting it all the way up to his pointed chin. Alfred paused for a moment, hesitating in his actions before ducking his head to press a chaste kiss on his nephew's forehead. Francis stirred for a fleeting moment, causing Alfred to wonder if he had awakened him. Fortunately, he had not, and Francis inhaled deeply and settled back down. Alfred eyed him warily, worrying that he might wake at any given moment. When he didn't, Alfred released a sigh of relief he had not known he'd been suppressing.

"Goodnight, bud." he bade, his voice barely above a whisper as he ran a firm hand through Francis' beautiful, glittering hair. He let his hand fall limply at his side, pulling himself into an upright position as he attempted to take his leave. His balled fist clenched around the brass doorknob, Alfred was half-way out of the door when a soft voice stopped him in his tracks.

"_Tonton _Alfwed?"

The curious petition made Alfred turn around, an incandescent smile plastered upon his cheerful visage, "You're awake."

Francis gave off a tiny nod, his hands coming up to the edge of his duvet to push it down a little. He blearily peered back at Alfred from behind his covers, his eyes of cerulean half-lidded and shimmering brightly, with a tint of fatigue reflecting from those sparkling orbs.

"You look tired, Franny." Alfred noted, having a go at playing Captain Obvious while approaching the bed once more, "You should get back to sleep."

"Uncle Alfred...?" Francis started groggily, leaning back against his pillow.

Alfred shot him a questioning look, "Yeah, Francis?"

"Will you rrrread me a storrry?" Francis queried imploringly, accentuating and rolling his 'r's as he did so.

Alfred's expression morphed into a sympathetic one, "Ah, geeze... I'd really love to, bud, honestly, but..." Alfred awkwardly jammed his thumb forward in the opposite direction, lifting his hand slightly above his shoulder as he did so, "... I kinda have to go now..."

Sparkling tears welled up in the child's cerulean eyes.

"I, ah- well, that is to say... ergh..." Alfred's voice faltered bit by bit until it faded away completely. He was utterly under Francis' mesmerising spell. Alfred swallowed audibly, forcing himself to avert his eyes. A small tug on the cuff of his sleeve made him glance back at his nephew, who wore a pleading expression on his face. Alfred exhaled loudly before conceding, "Ah, fine. Just a short one then."

Francis smiled back, "Zank you."

"So, uh... what d'you want me to read to you, sport?"

"_Celui_-là."

Alfred's eyes followed the direction of Francis' outstretched forefinger, landing on a large, velvety book situated upon the highest ledge of Francis' bookshelf, a ledge that seemed inaccessible to the sandy-haired man.

Alfred's smile wavered slightly.

"...Right. Ehm..." Alfred's baby-blue eyes swept over the bookshelf, his legs making a direct beeline towards it as he spotted a colourful book, "Oh, what's this?" he immediately outstretched a hand to make a grab for it, "Well, doesn't this look like a nice book? Hey, Franny," he turned on the spot to face the child, book in hand, "What's say you and I read this?"

He flashed a dazzling smile at the utterly nonplussed boy.

Francis dead-panned, "That's a baby'z book."

Alfred's smile faltered slightly, "... Is it?" he glanced back down at the book, "Oh."

Francis gave an exasperated sigh as Alfred shot him a sheepish look, whose eyes never left those of his nephew as he pushed the book back to its original position.

"I want zat one, ze big book over zere!" Francis pointed out the enormous storybook on the upper ledge, as if Alfred had somehow missed the fact that it was this book that the child desired.

Heaving a sigh of his own, Alfred conceded, "Alright, alright, I'll get it down for you."

Giving the room a quick scope for anything that may be of use to help him get up there, Alfred spied a small chair set aside an equally small table. Without a second's delay, the sandy-haired man approached the aforementioned chair and swiped it from its place, letting it drop back down in front of the bookcase, right underneath the very book that Francis so craved. Alfred, with less care than he ought to have taken, placed his right foot atop the seat of the chair, jerking his foot about so that the chair shook a little under his weight. Taking an inaudible gulp, Alfred heaved himself up on the stool-like chair, applying more pressure on the seat as he positioned his other foot above it. Alfred could feel the unsteadiness of the chair, and could feel it tilt from side to side with his every movement. Opting to ignore it, the sandy-haired young man outstretched his hand once more to finger along the arrayed line of books before him. His clear-blue eyes sought out the book that he had lost while getting up, and every-so-often he could hear little Francis chirping out orders, obeying them without hesitance.

He grinned when he finally caught the right book, his hand already inching towards it and trying to tug it out. The chair wobbled beneath him as Alfred increased his efforts in forcing it out, and eventually the chair's sporadic tilting became too erratic to permit it to stay upright; the chair toppled over, and Alfred with it.

He came crashing down to the floor, one of the legs of the chair connecting with his upper back. Francis gave a sharp caw of surprise, jumping up in his bed at the loud noise.

"Ow..." Alfred muttered after about three seconds of lying there, tears of pain swimming in his eyes of baby-blue.

No sooner than the quietened utterance left his lips, than the door to the room flew open to reveal a worried-looking Matthew, who appeared to be panting slightly.

"Alfred!" he cried, rushing to his side upon setting sights on his fallen brother. Said fallen brother slowly began to prop his upper body up with his elbows, applying his weight on them for support as Matthew got rid of the chair. "Alfred, are you okay?"

"Just peachy." Alfred forced a pained smile, blinking back the tears before collapsing back against his back, which had since begun to throb once the shock of his fall had worn off.

"Are you sure?"

"Yup." Alfred voice was filled with agony, and his fake smile began to fade.

Matthew didn't seem convinced, instead grabbing at random limbs belonging to Alfred, as if that would help in any way. "Jesus, Al, what did you do?"

"Ah- ow! Stop! S-stop!" Alfred batted his brother's hand away as Matthew started to turn him over to better inspect his back, "Stop- stop motherhenning meh!"

Matthew, being Matthew, did not cease mollycoddling his brother, instead doubling his efforts as he attempted to prop him up, only to fail miserably.

"Damn, Matt- quit it, I'm fine!"

"Are you sure?" Matthew, being a redundant ass, repeated for what had to be the millionth time.

"For the last time- ow- yes!"

Matthew eventually released his grip on Alfred and gave a despondent shake of his head, the worry etched upon his face subsiding slightly, but not yet dissipating, "What happened, Al?"

"I was... on the chair... and it fell." Alfred attempted to catch his breath from Matthew's attack.

The younger of the duo's eyes fixed themselves on the chair he'd just untangled from Alfred's legs, "What made you think it would be a good idea to stand on _that_?" at Alfred's deathly silence, Matthew rephrased, "What were you even trying to _do_?"

Alfred's response emerged in a groan, so Francis helpfully provided the answer for his father, "Uncle Alfred was trying to get me my book!"

Matthew appeared unamused, his gaze fixed on his brother as he asked his son, "Which book was Uncle Alfred trying to get, Francis?"

"This... one..." Alfred answered with laboured breaths in Francis' stead, the pain in his back increasing and his body having not yet recovered from Matthew's incessant mollycoddling, as his hand gave a lazy twitch in the direction of the book, which he had managed to grab just before the fall.

A frown settling over his relatively youthful features, Matthew leaned over Alfred's limp body to retrieve the book. He plucked it from off the ground before retreating back in a kneeling position, his kneecaps barely touching Alfred's side.

Matthew scanned the cover, raising a thin brow, "This is what you were trying to get?"

"Uh-huh."

"...And you were really going to read this to Francis?"

"Well no shit, Sherlock. What, you think I'd risk my life just so that I could _read _for my own _pleasure_?" Alfred demanded incredulously, to which Matthew fixed him with a warning look, a clear caveat to not swear in the presence of his son again.

Giving a shake of his head, Matthew posed, unable to contain the slight amusement from seeping into his tone, "You... do know that this is in French, right?"

"..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"Well duh! What, you think I'm stupid or something?" Alfred forced a laugh, which sounded more of a nervous titter than anything else, "Of course I knew it was... ehh... French?"

Rolling his eyes a little, Matthew sighed with no short amount of mirth, "Of course you did."

"Yeah, I mean... yeah. Like, it was obvious, y'know? Kid wanted me to read this, so I was gonna. I mean, I speak French like, gooder than most."

Matthew couldn't contain the slight chuckle that evaded him, "Sure you do, Al. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"What?" Alfred narrowed his eyes at Matthew's continued laughter, "What?! Stop mocking me, you ass! I can so speak Frenglish- I mean French! Fu- fiddlesticks!" Alfred rectified upon remembering that they were in the presence of a five-year-old.

"_Ah, Alfred, tu m'fait trop rire, j'te jure~ honhonhonhonhon~_"

"What the fuck did you just say to m- ow!" Alfred reacted to Matthew's elbowing him, "_Mattie_! That really hurt!"

Matthew rolled his violet-coloured eyes, "Don't be so dramatic, Alfred, it was only a little bump..."

"Oh, God, it hurts... God, I think I'm going to die... t-tell my family I love them..."

"I am your family."

"Not anymore- you're disowned. Go. Leave. Leave, and never come back."

"If anyone's leaving, it's you- you're in my flat, remember?"

"Don't care."

"..."

"Oh, damn, it actually hurts now..." Alfred whined, sucking in a sharp breath as he tried to pull his upper body off the ground again, only to fail and collapse once more. This momentary lapse in judgement cost Alfred heavily, for pain flared up his back again and he cried out. It was nothing serious, and in fact, Alfred had merely cried out of surprise, yet even so, Matthew's demeanour immediately changed, and it was all too clear to Alfred that he was about to revert to his mother-hen mode when a choked sob stilled both brothers.

Matthew detected the source of the noise instantly, his eyes flicking up to meet his son's gaze for the first time since entering the room. He could easily see how distressed Francis was, and was able to perceive the long trails of liquid upon Francis' cheeks facilely, his face tainted by silent tears, his evident worry magnified to about a dozen times more than Matthew's.

"Ow... Damn, it hurts... ugh... I'm gonna die..."

"Come on, Alfred, stop exaggerating." Matthew muttered rather solemnly, observing the rapid paling in Francis' visage.

Alfred, for his part, ceased whining, however a little wince escaped him here and there as he too glanced back at Francis. His eyes widened upon seeing the tears, "Aw, Franny, don't cry-" he tried to stumble up, tripping over his feet as he approached Francis' bed in a stagger, "- I'm fine, see? I'm fine. Uncle Alfred just fell and possibly broke something, but I'm tough so I'm fine."

The tears cascading down Francis' cheeks did not halt, however, and Alfred could hear another of Matthew's sighs behind him. Alfred paid it no heed, and he made his way to Francis' bedside, his arms outstretched for the embrace he knew his nephew longed for. Sure enough, Francis' arms stretched out towards Alfred when the man was close enough, and Alfred engulfed Francis in a bear hug.

"It's okay, Fran-mah-man," Alfred whispered rather loudly as he began to rock his nephew in his hold, "I'm fine, no harm done." he pulled away to observe Francis' face, only to note that the boy was still distressed, "Hey, come on now. No more tears; you're gonna make your 'ole uncle cry- oompf!"

Francis had face-planted Alfred's chest, hiccuping slightly with a muffled voice,"I- I th-thought-"

"Shh, it's okay. How about I read you the story, huh? Would that help?"

Alfred couldn't feel Matthew's eyes on him as he consoled Francis, however they were there, staring at him with a mixture of unbelievably warm kindness and gratitude.

They were gone within an instant, though, as Alfred turned his gaze on Matthew to ask, "Mind passing me that book there, Matt?"

Matthew cocked a brow, "You're going to try to read it in spite of what I've told you?"

"Dude, I'm not stupid, I can read French."

A roll of the eyes later and Matthew dutifully handed the book over to Alfred, giving a half-hearted, "Good luck."

Alfred turned back to Francis, sitting on the edge of the bed as Matthew, unbeknownst to either his brother or his son, edged closer, a soft, yet eerily mischievous smile etched upon his face.

"Okey-dokey, let's get started," chirped Alfred, opening the large book in his hands, "'_Chapitre_ One- _Uhn compt-ee mal-heuleur... e- uxe_.'"

Matthew's shoulders started to heave slightly, already suppressing bouts of laughter whilst Francis completely blanched over in horror, utterly mortified. Matthew perceived this immediately, smiling as he subconsciously noted the similarities between Francis and his late mother- the comparison was inevitable, as the two were so alike, in both appearance and mannerisms, that it sent a small pang to Matthew's already wounded heart. The more he thought of his son and his wife, the more he wondered what she would have made of Alfred's outrageous and incomprehensible accent.

_She'd have had a heart-attack_, Matthew thought knowingly, his smile faltering as he began to ponder the different reactions she'd have- and had had in the past.

It hurt just to think of her, even when he reminisced on the good times they'd shared- the times they'd still had yet to share.

Matthew's breathing grew shallower.

_Oh, Marianne._

Matthew sobered up all too quickly, and his mind drifted elsewhere as Alfred began to enjoy himself and as Francis begged him to stop.

Matthew hadn't even noticed the time fly by as Alfred finally managed to get Francis to sleep (all his pleads and complaints had tired him out) and tucked him into bed, placing the book on the boy's bedside table.

"See, Matt, I told you I could speak French." Alfred proclaimed proudly, turning to face his brother, who was busy staring into space, his visage blank and ever-so pale as a despondent glint twinkled in his unseeing eyes.

"Mattie?" Alfred's voice jutted Matthew out of his thoughts, effectively snapping him out of his reverie.

"What?" Matthew blinked up at Alfred, before laying eyes on his slumbering son, "Oh. You got him to sleep."

"Yeah. Proves how great a storyteller I am, eh?" Alfred grinned, although his overly-wide smile waned at the lack of reaction from his brother, "Hey, Matt, you okay?"

"What?" Matthew's eyes snapped away from his son to rest on Alfred, "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

"You sure? You kinda blanked out there for a minute."

"Yeah, I was just- thinking about your storytelling skills," Matthew gingerly picked himself from off the ground, "or lack thereof."

The slight tension in Alfred's face dissipated, and he scoffed, "Pfft, you're just jealous cause I speak French better than you."

Matthew released a huff of air in amusement, shaking his head, "Whatever you say, Al."

Silence reigned over the duo, with the only noise in the room being that of Francis' steady breathing.

"So... I guess I should be going now. Arthur'll be waiting for me."

"I'll walk you out." Matthew offered, and the two headed out of the room, with Matthew switching off the light before closing the bedroom door behind him.

They were at the door leading out of the flat when Matthew suddenly remembered that he was forgetting something.

"Hang on a second, Al, I'll be right back."

Alfred, mildly confused, waited for him at the door until he saw his generally meek brother return, a wad of paper notes in hand.

Alfred was, surprisingly, quick to refuse, "Mattie, you don't have to- you know I was just joking about that, right?"

"I want you to take it. Please," Matthew outstretched the wad of bills to Alfred, "It would make me feel better."

After a (very) brief moment's hesitation, Alfred relented, giving a shaky smile, "Well, then- if it's for your betterment."

And he took the money.

"I'll call you tomorrow, okay? " he assured Matthew, as if he believed that Matthew had any doubt that he would, "And, y'know, if you and Franny wanna stop by then, Arthur and I'll be only to happy to accommodate you."

"Thanks, Alfred, but I think it'll be for the best if we just stay out of your hair f-"

"Nonsense, Matt! It'll be fun- we'll get drinks, invite some of the guys over, and Franny and Artie can play with each other or something!"

Matthew seemed tentative, "I don't know, Al, I really don' think-"

Matthew had no time to finish his sentence, however, for he was cut off by his brother's arms throwing themselves around his slim frame.

"Just think about it, okay?" Alfred mumbled into the crook of Matthew's neck before pulling away from the hug, "I'll call you tomorrow."

Blinking tiredly at his brother, Matthew conceded, "Okay. Goodnight, Alfred."

"Goodnight, Matt."

And so Alfred disappeared, leaving Matthew alone to his own devices.

**A/N: … Yeah, the ending's a bit gloomy for a (kind of) comedic story, but I just can't refrain from adding a dash of drama (no matter how small) in any of my stories. And yes, Arthur will finally make his appearance in the fourth chapter xD. But thank-you all for reading this, I once again apologise for the really long wait, and I'll see you all *much* sooner.**

**Until then ;)**

**Translations:**

**_French sentence__ = Ah, Alfred, tu m'fait trop rire, j'te jure~ honhonhonhonhon~_**

**_English translation__ = Oh, Alfred, you make me laugh, I swear ~ hahahahahah~ [note: I added the "honhonhon" laugh as I just couldn't resist- it's even funnier when you imagine Matthew doing it]_**

**_French words = __Celui-là!_**

**_English translation __= That one!_**

**_Alfred's French = __Chapitre_ One- _Uhn compt-ee mal-heuleur... e- uxe_**

_**French translation= Chapitre Un- Un compte malheureux**_

_**English translation= Chapter One- A miserable tale**_


End file.
